


Tony Attempts to Help

by WiseOwl95



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Bruce Banner, At least read it for CHAPTER 9!, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner is hot, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Love, Love Confessions, Nerdiness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Science Bros, Sexy Times, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:19:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiseOwl95/pseuds/WiseOwl95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since the attack on New York you have been working for Dr. Banner as his assistant in the lab, and over the course of the past two years, you have fallen in love with him. Determined to help you out, your friend Tony Stark decides to set you up on a date with Bruce, but there are some rules you are forced to stick to.</p><p>A short story about friendship, romance, and being yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic, reader insert or rom com. Feedback is much appreciated so that I can improve my work. This was originally posted on my deviantArt account with the same username (WiseOwl95) in April/May 2014.
> 
> Tony and Bruce belong to Marvel (unfortunately).
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95

You were a scientist. The quiet genius who just kept her head down and got on with her work. Not that it was easy. It was a well-known fact that if you work with the ‘Science Bros’ you have to contend with the odd experiment exploding in the lab or Tony’s drunk science once in a while. But, all things considered, this was the best job you could have ever wished for. That is, if it weren’t for the fact that you were hopelessly and utterly in love with your boss, Dr. Banner, who insisted you call him Bruce. You hadn’t intended for this to happen. You had been working with the two of them in Stark Tower since the New York incident involving Loki two years ago, and you were good friends outside the lab with Bruce. But slowly, and with constant comments from Tony, you realised that you had in fact fallen in love. Not that you minded, it was just that trying to concentrate on your work was even more difficult, what with your close proximity to the adorkable doctor.

There were times, often when a series of almost impossible mathematical equations covered your computer screen, that you couldn’t help but sneak glances. Hell, you even caught yourself staring once or twice. But you couldn’t help it. How could you? With those chocolate brown eyes, his cute brown and slightly-greying curls, and that nervous smile of his. But it wasn’t just his looks. Oh no, you were head-over-heels for that nerdy scientist; the shy genius who, on occasion, would light up with passion when explaining some new scientific discovery or when engaging with you in a science-related debate. He would become so animated and alive, and you could feel the sparks fly as you would both speak so hurriedly. And the similarities don’t end there. You would discuss literature, history, politics, anthropology… anything. Whatever the topic, you could talk into the early hours of the morning without a thought for work. But you knew that you wouldn’t become anymore than good friends… how could you?

You, being the awkward and nerdy assistant, hadn’t the faintest clue what to do, or even if Bruce returned your feelings. But apparently Tony, of all people, knew how you felt (he was a genius after all), and he wanted to help. At first you didn't trust him. (I mean, why would you?) But he was determined, and had been from the moment you had started working there, to get you and the doctor together. And for the first time, you were willing to go along with his plan, because you quite simply couldn’t stand seeing Bruce everyday and being unable to wrap your arms round his waist for a hug, or lean up to kiss him. Plus, Tony was complaining that the sexual tension between you and Bruce was killing him, not that you would admit that you were even more frustrated than he was…


	2. Chapter 2

\- - - - Flashback - - - -

 

“I have a plan.” 

These dreaded words left Tony’s mouth as he entered the lab with a steaming mug of coffee and a small plastic tray of blueberries.

“No.” You reply.

“But (y/n)” He whines in response, “You haven’t even let me explain. In fact, you never let me explain, and I’m a genius, so you really should listen to me.”

“I’m assuming you’re using the term ‘genius’ loosely.” You grinned in response.

“(y/n) I’m serious.” He frowns.

You start to giggle and almost drop the pipette you were using to diligently transfer a small solution of chemicals from one beaker to another filled with a purple liquid.

“Tony please, I’m trying to work. And anyway, Fury will be on your case even more so than usual unless you actually make a start on this assignment.”

“You say that every time I walk through the door.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you listened to _me_ for once.” You counter.

You try to get him to work (as if that’s going to happen) in an attempt to distract him from what has become nearly a daily occurrence - Tony devising increasingly outlandish and most likely embarrassing plans involving you telling, or in some cases showing, the wonderful Dr Banner how you feel about him.

Tony pops a handful of blueberries into his mouth and chews thoughtfully for a moment and the lab descends back into its naturally peaceful state; the whirring of various machines on the desks contributing a calming and familiar background noise, keeping the sound comfortably above silence.

But the quiet doesn’t last for long.

“(y/n), you know that I only want the best for you and my Science Bro, and right now, you two being awkward in the lab is just painful. So you either help me set you up with Bruce or I’ll just tell him how you feel…. in fact, I’ll post a video of me telling him on youtube, so the whole world will know.”

You snap your head towards him, a cross between uncertainty and horror on your face. “You wouldn’t!”

“Wouldn’t I?” He asks, his trademark you-have-to-agree-with-Tony-Stark smirk gracing his features.

You sigh, knowing, sadly from personal experience, that if you didn’t participate in whatever crazy scheme he had planned this time, you’d most likely be trending on youtube by this evening.

“Fine. What do I have to do?”

If it was even possible, his grin got even wider. “Trust me.”

 

\- - - - Present Time - - - - 

 

You stare at yourself in the full-length mirror in your living room on your floor in Stark Tower, after Pepper had applied (or rather assaulted you with) some make-up, curled your hair, and practically forced you into the outfit you were now standing in. All you can think is ‘kill me now’. Normally, you would be quite content with dark jeans, converse and your ‘I AM SHER-LOCKED’ tee, with no make-up and your hair falling naturally to your shoulders. But no, apparently that wasn’t ‘appropriate’ for what Tony had planned. You pale at the thought. Dinner in a posh restaurant wearing this… this… _monstrosity_ was the only word that came to mind. A short, skin-tight dress in what can only be described as an alarming shade of pink, with matching heels that you were definitely NOT comfortable wearing (you are certain that you will be precariously wobbling about attempting to walk in these three-inch heels). It certainly didn’t help that, being the short and (at times frustratingly) curvy person that you are, you conclude that you look awful. _Really_ awful.

“This isn’t me.”

“That’s kind of the point (y/n).” Tony replies.

“Tony, I can’t do this. I feel utterly ridiculous. Why can’t we just order pizza, maybe watch a DVD or something.” You plead.

“One word: youtube.”

You sigh. “Okay, okay. But, just please, for once in your life, don’t draw attention to us. It’s bad enough that I have to wear this, let alone go to the most expensive Italian restaurant in the city with you for company.”

“You wound me (y/n)!”  Tony dramatically places his hand over his arc reactor, adding “Besides, it’s an unofficial ‘double date’. Two birds, one stone. You get to charm Bruce, and I actually remember to take Pepper out for a meal. Now, bear in mind what I told you before, no-”

“References to anything work-related, nerdy or boring. Yeah, I heard you the first time. The only problem is, what do I talk about? You do realise that having told Bruce that this is a ‘work outing plus Pepper’ doesn’t really help me to avoid any of your aforementioned ‘forbidden topics’.” You complain.

“I thought you were a genius, (y/n); don’t disappoint. Just… talk about normal stuff… compliments… you know, the usual date stuff. Forget that me and Pepper are even there.”

“Like that’ll be possible.” You whisper, hoping he won’t hear, and turning away from the mirror you head for the door. “Let’s get this over with Tony.” You call from across the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any recognisable characters belong to Marvel.
> 
> Your feedback is, as always, much appreciated.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	3. Chapter 3

You arrive at the restaurant and by some miracle (you honestly have no idea how) you manage to walk from the limo to your table inside despite the treacherous heels. Pepper and Tony are in front, his arm around her waist, and her leaning into him. Oh how you wish that could be you and Bruce. But alas, you are the nerd he won’t even glance at; just his assistant, who is now dressed up in an outfit far too revealing for your taste. These thoughts swim in your mind, and you fail to notice that they’ve stopped walking and you almost crash into them.

“Sorry, sorry! Wasn’t paying attention.” You smile sheepishly.

You got two pairs of raised eyebrows, before Tony and Pepper took their seats to reveal Bruce, standing behind a pulled out chair in which he was waiting for you to sit. He was wearing a navy button-down and charcoal slacks, his hair slightly more tousled than usual, as if he’d been nervously running his hands through it. His glasses were tucked into his shirt, which had a couple of buttons undone. Your reaction: stunned and blushing. You were staring for what felt like hours before Tony cleared his throat, and you unceremoniously plonked yourself down on the chair Bruce had been offering whilst trying not to look him in the eye and feeling lucky that the dress hadn’t torn. Bruce took the seat opposite you and proceeded to avoid looking in your direction entirely and attempting to start a conversation with Tony about his latest scientific theory. You were partly relieved that the attention had been diverted from you, albeit temporarily, but are also feeling slightly hurt. Was what you’re wearing really that bad that he couldn’t stand to even acknowledge you? You’d thought that Bruce, of all people, would be able to see past that and at the very least greet you.

But, as luck would have it, or in this instance Tony, Bruce would not get his work-related discussion, and instead, Tony abruptly, and with all the subtlety of a poptart-eating demigod, changed the course of conversation onto you:

“Bruce, buddy, we’ve been in the lab working all day-”

“Well you _were_ in the lab.” Bruce interjected.

“Yeah, whatever. We aren’t talking shop tonight. I thought it would be good to just relax, and… talk. So Bruce, what do you think of (y/n)’s new style?”

And that was it, right there. The magenta elephant in the room. If it were possible, you wanted to be invisible, or sink right through the floor into the cellar and stay there till everyone had gone home.

“Err… yeah… it’s very…. bright.” Bruce awkwardly supplied, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to look at the rather large amount of cleavage you were (unwillingly) showing.

You turned an even darker shade of red and hastily grabbed the menu in front of you and obscured your face with the pages. After a few tense moments the conversation moved on, or at least, Tony and Pepper were flirting, whilst Bruce sat quietly and you cowered behind the menu. Oh joy. You decide to place the menu, open, back on the table.

“Hi.” You almost whisper across the table.

“Err, hi.”

You both sit there, wrapped in your own awkward silence.

“I’m sorry (y/n), a-about what I said…. about the dress.”

“It’s okay Bruce, really. I know it looks ghastly, and it honestly wasn’t my first choice. In fact there isn’t enough material to even warrant calling it a dress. I feel like I’m one step away from an Orion Slave Girl outfit.”

Bruce chuckles, which makes you smile and laugh a little, breaking the tension.

“All our late night conversations in the lab and I didn’t even know my assistant was a Trekkie.”

At Bruce’s comment, Tony sends you a meaningful glare. That’s right, no nerdy references. You send him back an apologetic look, which he seemed to accept, as his attention refocused on Pepper.

You frantically try to find something to say that somehow fits in with Tony’s infuriatingly impossible rules. “So Bruce, what… how are… I like… blue is a nice colour.”

Great. Of all the possible things to say, that was it. Nothing unique, or interesting, or anything that would remotely sound acceptable on an unofficial date. No: ‘blue is a nice colour’. You’re sure Bruce thinks you’ve gone utterly crazy as he gives you an uncertain look.

“(y/n), are you okay? You have been working a lot of overtime lately. You look exhausted.”

Bruce immediately notices his mistake when you give him a look like a kicked puppy. “ I mean, not bad, no… I didn’t mean to say bad, just… not…. I mean… you know what I mean. Don’t you? Are you? Tired, I mean.” He stumbles over his words as you fiddle with the napkin next to your cutlery.

“I’m just peachy, thanks.” You mutter glumly.

So much for being able to charm Bruce.

 

\- - - - Time Skip brought to you by Mycroft’s Umbrella - - - - 

 

The waiter had just taken your orders, and the wine had been brought to the table and assessed by Tony, who, like with most alcoholic beverages, deemed it worthy of his consumption. You sat nervously with your glass of red wine, barely taking a sip of the crimson liquid.

This is just awful. Usually, you can talk to Bruce for hours without so much as an awkward pause, but now you’re sat opposite one another, certain that neither of you want to be there. You through embarrassment; him most likely because you are rubbish company. You couldn’t flirt for toffee, and because of Tony’s stipulations and the threat of him proclaiming your love for Bruce going viral, you are unable to make conversation.

You sit for what feels like an age in suffocating silence. What to do? But, for the second time this evening, Tony’s intervening, which cannot even remotely be considered ‘luck’, would land you once again in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.

As was customary for the billionaire, Tony had decided that drinking copious amounts of whisky before leaving Stark Tower was a good idea, because quote: ‘the alcohol elsewhere isn’t strong enough’. This meant that, having now downed almost a full bottle of red in under fifteen minutes in addition to his pre-drinks, he was drunk. Drunk Tony Stark is like normal Tony Stark, only louder, even less patient (if that’s possible), and a lot more clumsy. So when he thought that the service needed to be sped up, he didn’t just slur profanities and call the waiters incompetent (so much for drawing attention to the four of you), but he clambered up from his seat, much to Pepper’s displeasure, and proceeded to find the manager.

Only Tony didn’t reach the manager. He barely made it to the corner of the table before staggering, and instead of reaching out to steady himself like a normal person, he fell onto you. The wine glass, which had been in your hand as you absent-mindedly swirled the liquid round inside, was now empty, the contents covering the front of the dress in a horrid red stain.

You barely register what has happened before Tony was hauled up by Bruce, giving you the opportunity to stare at the damage. You hadn’t liked the dress. Not. One. Bit. But there was no way that you were going to endure another minute of this madness. Seething with anger at the now confused Tony (who had been forcibly sat down for his own safety) you remove yourself from your seat.

“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU EMBARRASSING ME! FIRST WITH THE DRESS, THEN THE FORBIDDEN DISCUSSION TOPICS AND NOW THIS! I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE HURT AND INSULTED. I WILL NOT BE YOUR PROJECT STARK. FIX YOUR OWN DAMN LIFE BEFORE YOU START MEDDLING IN MINE!”

You begin to angrily storm off in the direction of the exit. But you forgot about your footwear. You stumble and one of the heels snaps. With something that resembled a growl leaving your lips, you pause to remove your shoes, and then, with as much force as you can muster, hurl them at Tony’s head. Only you miss. By a mile. Instead hitting a waiter in the chest with one of them, and the other landing on a table somewhere, presumably in someone’s food, judging by the gasp and the clank against what sounded like a plate. Infuriated by your failure, and with as much dignity as you can scrape off the floor, you stride toward the doors and out into the night.

You leave behind a shocked restaurant and a mortified Bruce.

“Well that went b-better than expec- expected.”

“Shut up Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters other than you belong to Marvel.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	4. Chapter 4

You peel off the ruined dress, and rather than putting it in the laundry, you shove it on the chair in the corner of the room to deal with it later. Preferably when you are feeling up to devising a creative way of disposing of it - possibly involving the use of fire. You really hate that dress. And right now, you really hate Tony. Sure, you had agreed, albeit reluctantly, for him to help you with what you are now calling the ‘Bruce Situation’, but you didn’t think that he’d utterly humiliate you. Not like that. Not in front of all those people. And especially not in front of Bruce.

You were used to his pranks in the lab; buckets of water over doorways and the like, but this was different, and it hurt. You choked back tears as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your feet were black with grime and were patterned with cuts from your angry barefoot speed walk from the restaurant to the tower. Your hair looked as if you’d been plugged into an electric socket with the power left on for an hour or two, and the tears you’d shed before had altered your make-up so you now resembled a partially melted Joker.

Standing in front of the mirror in your underwear looking like an extra from a low budget horror movie, you thought that it can’t possibly get any worse. But then you have a sobering thought: you have work tomorrow. In the lab with Tony. But more importantly, with Bruce. He’d seen your outburst along with everyone else. In that blasted dress and those diabolical heels. How could you possibly face him after all that? And Tony? You don’t think that you could be in the same room with him without posing a serious risk to his health, or at the very least the unbroken state of his nose.

You remain with your thoughts for a while, trying to determine how you’re going to survive tomorrow. Overwhelmed, you bury your face in your hands, collapse to your knees and cry.

 

\- - - - Time Skip brought to you by Sherlock’s Skull - - - - 

 

You straighten out your blouse in the mirror and tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. Taking a deep breath, you head to the elevator down to the lab. Your heart is hammering in your chest and your palms feel sweaty. The elevator begins to slow and the numbers count down to your destination. Gathering whatever confidence you can summon, you step out as the doors open and make your way down the corridor.

On reaching the lab, you cautiously peer inside to find it deserted. You quickly slip inside and get to work at your computer, with the day ahead set to feature an endless stream of results tables from previous experiments and reports compiled from the data. Good. Something you felt comfortable with; something you could handle with ease.

Losing track of time, you hadn’t noticed Bruce enter the lab part way through the morning and start his own work at his desk on the other side of the room. Nor had you been aware of the glances he occasionally threw your way, or the blush that decorated his face when he caught himself staring at you. It was only at lunch time, when the alarm on your phone alerted you to take a break, that you realised Bruce was there at all. Rather than be involved in another terribly awkward interaction, you  scurried off up to the kitchen for a sandwich.

Which is where you found Tony. He was slumped over the island in the middle of the kitchen with dark sunglasses on. He must have one hell of a hangover, you thought, serves him right. He doesn’t stir as you tiptoe past to the fridge, so you busy yourself with making lunch, and at least trying to ignore the tears at the corners of your eyes and control the anger that seemed to be clawing at your chest. After all, you didn’t want another reason to avoid people in the tower, but mainly, you didn’t want to spoil your lunch by lobbing a sandwich at Tony, because as amusing and satisfying as that would be, you learnt last night that your aim wasn’t that great when it came to throwing things at him. Plus, it would be a waste of good food.

Instead, you decide to leave him be and employ the silent treatment later. That, above all else, would really get on his nerves whilst making a point. Just as you’ve set your mind on this punishment and you reach the door to leave, Tony stretches and yawns.

“Morning (y/n).”

You don’t reply. You just keep on walking right out the door, intending to reach the lab without confrontation or uttering a word. And this time, even though Tony Stark was involved, you were determined to win. He would not break your resolve, despite how petty and infantile you recognised your punishment for him to be. No matter how hard he tries, you think to yourself.

“(y/n)? (Y/N)! Why are you ignoring me?”

Tony starts to follow you, reaching the elevator doors right before they close and he steps inside.

“It’s not like you to be rude like that (y/n).”

There is silence as the elevator descends. The numbers count down and you are almost out of the enclosed space with the person you least want to be with right now.

“Look, I don’t understand why you’re not speaking to me. What did I do wrong?”

Mercifully, the doors open and you step out into the corridor, Tony keeping pace by your side.

“(y/n) it’s not like I went off on one in the middle of a restaurant and started throwing my shoes at people! Although, you should have seen that guy’s face… priceless!”

You halted halfway down the corridor, grabbing Tony’s arm so he stopped walking too.

“How. Dare. You.” You start slowly, attempting to keep your voice steady, but even Tony can hear the anger lacing your words. But now, you’re not only annoyed at him for last night, but you’re furious with yourself for being unable to stop talking to him for more than a few minutes. And that’s when you snap.

“THAT ONLY HAPPENED BECAUSE YOU WERE DRUNK - AGAIN! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO HAD THE OH-SO-BRILLIANT IDEA TO GET ME ALL DRESSED UP LIKE THAT! I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY FRIEND, BUT RATHER THAN HELP ME, YOU THREATENED TO HUMILIATE ME, AND THEN DID SO ANYWAY. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

You stride off in the direction of the lab, trying unsuccessfully to stop the tears from escaping your eyes. Tony remains in the corridor, stunned by your outburst, with guilt weighing on his shoulders.

“I have to make this right.” He states firmly, though no-one is around to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters other than you belong to Marvel.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	5. Chapter 5

\- - - - Tony’s P.O.V. - - - - 

 

It had been three days since he had last seen you about the tower, and those three days had felt like an age. Mainly because he missed having you as a friend. The person who would nag him for not working on Fury’s projects and chide him for trying to get Bruce to Hulk out. The person who was always willing to spare a few minutes for him to show-off new additions to his suit or bring him and Bruce hot coffee when working late in the lab. The person who, in the last two years, had grown to be a part of Stark Tower, and by extension, part of his family. Not that he would ever admit that to you of course. He was barely able to acknowledge the development himself. But the last three days had caused him to analyse where you fitted in, and from there, he set about trying to formulate an apology.

He knew that he had hurt you. It hadn’t been his intention. He’d only wanted you and Bruce to get over your blushing fest, quit dancing around one another and be happy together. But he now realised that threatening you with the prospect of youtube had been a bad idea (and he didn’t often have those). So now he was stuck facing the dilemma of how to appease an angry scientist (who for once wasn’t his Science Bro), whilst still figuring out a way to bring the two of you together. Only this time, he was aiming to be more like a catalyst and less like an inhibitor.

 

\- - - - Reader’s P.O.V. - - - - 

 

You had finished work for the day and had just stepped out of the elevator into the shared living room on the thirty-sixth floor, when you were greeted by Tony holding a tub of your favourite Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream.

“What do you want?” You ask wearily.

“To apologise.”

His words hang in the air between you. You had never entertained the possibility that the most stubborn man you knew was prepared to recognise his mistake, and yet here he stood, carrying a peace offering of sorts. The scene almost broke your heart, because following the dissipation of your anger and a few days in the lab devoid of his typical antics, you were missing him.

“I’m sorry too.” You whisper, eyes sinking to the expanse of floor between you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for (y/n). I… what I did… a-about youtube… that was wrong. Forgive me?” He asks, holding the tub out for you with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You let a smile slide onto your face as you lift your eyes to his. “Of course.”

He sighs in relief and you both move to sit on the sofa, where you promptly start to eat the ice-cream handed to you.

“I knew you couldn’t say no to me.” The triumphant smirk back on his face.

“Don’t push your luck, Stark. You still owe me big time for what you did.” You scowl.

Seriousness returns to his features. “I know (y/n). Really I do. I’ve spent the last three days wondering if I had lost one of my best friends because I was being a jerk.”

“As always.” You interrupt with a grin.

Tony rolls his eyes before continuing: “What I was trying to say (y/n) is that… I’m sorry.”

You stop eating ice-cream for a moment to look at him. “I know Tony. But you weren’t the only one to make a mistake. I overreacted… I made it all worse, and for that, I’m sorry.”

“No worries, (y/n). Besides, the least I can do now is go explain to Bruce that I forced you to wear that dress.”

“Why? So he doesn’t think that I jumped off the deep end of crazy the other night for no reason?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

He gets to his feet and makes his way to the elevator. “That, and the fact that I don’t want it to ruin your chances and we revert back to intense blushing contests between you two. In fact, I was tempted to program J.A.R.V.I.S. to say ‘just kiss already!’ whenever it got to that point.” He grinned.

“Don’t even think about it.” You laugh back.

“Too late!”

You grab the nearest cushion and fling it in Tony’s direction. It hits the wall a few inches to his right. 

He turns around and quirks an eyebrow upwards before stepping into the elevator, “Been working on your aim, (y/n)?”

The doors slide shut and he disappears from view. You smile to yourself; you’ve got your friend back and you might just be able to straighten things out with Bruce. Things seem to be looking up as you tuck back into your ice-cream.

Little did you know that Tony planned to do more than just admit to his involvement in the ‘magenta monstrosity’. Instead, he had made up his mind to help Bruce get over his reservations for asking you out on a date, and this time, he was determined that his plan wouldn’t fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters other than you belong to Marvel.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	6. Chapter 6

\- - - - Third Person P.O.V. - - - - 

 

“What do you want, Tony?”

Bruce didn’t even remove his gaze from the screen in front of him on which he was comparing the scanning electron microscope sample with an array of catalogue images. His fellow scientist had just entered the lab and began to wander round the room, occasionally picking up a complicated looking gadget, examining it, and then replacing it on the work counter. After five minutes, Bruce tore his eyes from the LCD monitor to analyse his friend and colleague.

A few moments later, he asked again: “Tony, what are you doing down here?”

Rather than answer that question, Tony replied with a phrase that Bruce thought impossible: “I apologised to (y/n).”

Bruce looked stunned for a second, before removing his glasses from his face in a single, fluid movement, to place them in his shirt pocket, and then proceeded to pinch the bridge of his nose. “You… actually said sorry?”

“Why is everyone finding that so hard to believe?!” Tony sighed in exasperation. “Yes! That’s what I just said! I made a mistake. You think you’re surprised, what about me? It was a new experience for me too, you know.”

Bruce just raised his eyebrows in response, attempting to take in this new information. “Wait… what was so bad that you felt the need to apologise? I know you were drunk, but that’s kind of like a natural state for you. And you were a bit of an ass, but then again, that’s something we expect. What d’you do to her Tony?” His final question was spoken with such concern that Tony almost felt bad all over again.

“I may have told her that she had to wear that dress the other day.” He replied, casting his eyes downward.

“Tony, you know how uncomfortable that made her feel.” The disappointment was evident in his voice.

“That’s not everything; I may also have forced her avoid certain topics of conversation with you, like the Star Trek thing.”

“Tony… why?” Bruce looked utterly bewildered.

“I don’t know. I just… look, I know that you like her, and the ‘work outing’ thing was meant to be a sort of unofficial date for you guys. Believe me when I say this, but I really want the best for both of you. I just thought that it would be a good opportunity for you to man-up and ask her out, or at the very least, experience what a normal date is like.”

“I don’t think that the word ‘normal’ applies to anything, in anyway, that is even remotely related to me. And while I appreciate your effort, and the fact that you apologised to her… Tony, it’s not necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I… I do like her. It’s just, we have an amazing friendship, and I would hate to ruin that. The only way that I can guarantee that she stays in my life is if we remain friends.”

“You’re wrong, Bruce. First off, you don’t just like her, you love her. Don’t even try to deny it, because for the past year you’ve been driving me crazy with the sexual tension between you two. I mean, I’ve seriously been considering designing a machine with a built in alarm system to measure the levels and warn me to leave when they get too high!”

“Tony-"

“I’m not finished, Bruce… J.A.R.V.I.S., shut off the cameras for five minutes.”

“It’s done, Sir.” The A.I. returned.

Tony continued: “Look, you were there for me when I thought I’d lost Pepper for good, to tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself, and do something. And I went, and I told her. But, and this is the important bit, you’ve got to do it _your_ way. That’s what _you_ said! I know I forgot this with the whole (y/n) and the dress thing, and I’m sorry, but that was honestly the best advice you’ve ever given me. And right now, you have to act on it, because you and (y/n)… it just depends how much you want it, because you know it’s possible to be friends and something more, right? You just have to make it happen.”

“I’m not entirely sure what to say.” Bruce barely whispered after a moment, unable to contain the mixture of confusion and gratitude that spread across his face.

“You’ve no need. You’re my Science Bro and my best friend.” Tony gives Bruce a small and encouraging smile, before turning to exit the lab to leave him alone with his thoughts.

As he reaches the door, Bruce says simply: “Tony… thank you.”

His friend nods once in acknowledgement before the door swings shut behind him.

The weight of Tony’s words almost moves Bruce to tears. He tries to process what his friend has said by running through it with his characteristic intense analysis and scrutiny. The words fly round his mind as if they were trapped in an absurd pinball machine, with phrases spinning forth from the jumble of letters, as he tries to wrap his mind round the ‘(y/n) situation’, as he was now calling it. But one phrase in particular keeps beating all the other thoughts away: _it just depends how much you want it_. How much did he want (y/n)? A lot. More than anything in fact. But by that very same logic his brain seemed to conclude that the only way that was possible is through friendship, because anything more would be too much of a risk. Or would it? That thought took him by surprise. He’d never got past the cyclical argument before. And that’s what got him thinking, what if, for once in his life, everything turned out well? What if, and he was damn near certain of the answer to this, (y/n) was the one? Yes. Yes, she was. Most definitely. _You just have to make it happen_. Could he make it happen? He certainly wanted to. But there was only one way to find out, and that would require a fair amount of planning.

After a few minutes sorting through his brain, he arrived at a conclusion. Bruce allowed himself a nervous smile. “I really hope you like this (y/n).” He said aloud, before making a start on his plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters other than you belong to Marvel.
> 
> As always, your comments and feedback are much appreciated.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	7. Chapter 7

\- - - - Reader’s P.O.V. - - - - 

 

You were analysing the latest data available on experiments involving Einsteinium whilst waiting for the Polymerase Chain Reaction you were running in the corner to finish, when you noticed movement the other side of the frosted glass door of the lab. Intrigued, you abandoned the reports that littered your desk and approached the silhouette that hurriedly moved back and forth in the corridor. As you reached for the door handle, you hesitated on hearing a familiar voice.

“Come on Banner, you can do this. Just tell her. Remember, confidence is key. Oh God, I sound like a self-help guide…” Bruce muttered to himself as he paced the short stretch of corridor outside the lab.

You realised that he was trying to give himself a pep talk. But why? Why would he need to compose himself before entering the lab? Normally he was perfectly fine, so why the sudden nervousness? Unless… no. You were struck with the most wonderful thought: what if he feels the same? But your brain chose to ignore your hopeful heart, and instead determined that Bruce was probably talking about someone else, because it couldn’t possibly be you who could bring the usually calm scientist to the edge of insanity, walking the same bit of corridor repeatedly and running his hands through his hair in a state of anxiety. Or could it? There was only one way to find out. You grasp the handle, pull open the door, and step out into the hallway.

Bruce immediately stops pacing to look at you with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, “I… (y/n)… hi.”

“Hey, Bruce.”

“Erm, how much of this… how long have you been here?”

“Cliché, but, long enough.” You grin.

He returns a small smile, before you continue: “I saw something moving in the corner of my eye, and as riveting as lesser known elements are, I thought I’d better stop working and-.”

“Decided to go clueing for looks.” He interrupted, as he relaxed more into the conversation.

“Hilarious.” You deadpanned, before failing to contain your giggles. “Actually, I wanted to know why you’re out here pacing like a leopard in a zoo. Please tell me you’re not claiming territory.”

“Now who’s the comedian? And no, I… I wanted to speak with you actually.”

“You are kinda doing that now, Brucie.”

“You know what I mean, (y/n).” He said, abandoning his previous humour.

As much as you wanted to know the reason behind his behaviour, you were also dreading the answer you might receive, but, realising there was nothing to gain by putting off the inevitable, you hesitantly nod. Now that you’d agreed to have this conversation, there was no going back.

“I know exactly what I want to say to you (y/n), but the words either refuse to leave my mouth, or they fail to express what I want you to know. Because you need to know… I’m sorry, it’s just… for the past year… you have no idea what you do to me!” He exclaimed.

Your mouth opened and closed but no sound left your lips, as if you were a goldfish; perpetually confused and gaping. But your superficial inactivity hid the racing of your heart as your brain slowly made sense of his final phrase. So it was me, your mind concluded. It was me! Realisation hit you like a phaser set to stun. You didn’t know whether to collapse in a heap on the floor and cry with relief, or jump up and down with delight. You chose the latter.

“IT WAS ME! ME! HA! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! I JUST THINK I MIGHT DIE!”

Bruce was visibly taken aback from your sudden transformation from a near catatonic state to your olympic gold celebration. He gently grabbed onto your arms to hold you still in an attempt to calm you down.

“(y/n). (Y/N)!”

“Yes, Bruce.” You say breathlessly.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern evident in his tone.

“Oh Bruce, you can’t possibly know how happy you’ve made me! It all makes sense, and Tony was right, although don’t tell him that because his ego’s already the size of Stark Tower, and you were pacing because of me, and although I feel bad about that, I-” You spoke in a rush.

“Slow down! Slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

With a confidence that you didn’t know you possessed (although you were pretty certain it had something to do with your dopamine-induced victory dance), you began to explain more clearly: “What I’m saying Bruce is that I didn’t know that you felt the same. I was just as confused and frustrated and… bewildered as you, but I’ve known that for the last year, I have been very much in love with you. We can still be friends, but I don’t think I can endure another minute of feeling so near and yet so far away from you.”

 

\- - - - Bruce’s P.O.V. - - - - 

 

He’s stunned. This beautiful woman, who he thought could never possibly return his feelings, had just taken his breath away (and not for the first time). His heart rate increased as a smile slid onto his face.

“Wow.”

(y/n) giggled at his response, and the sound was music to his ears.

“I guess that means the feeling’s mutual.” She grinned cheekily, her (e/c) eyes sparkling with that ever-present glint of amusement that he couldn’t help but marvel at (pun intended).

“Of course. But I wish I could have told you first, (y/n). I really wanted to, but the words just didn’t happen.” He says, glancing to his shoes with slight embarrassment.

“Well you did… in a way. But at least we’re on the same page now. Especially after a year of not even being in the same book!”

“I guess you’re right (y/n)-”

“As always.” She interjects with a smile.

He nods in agreement before continuing: “Even so, I still want to salvage what I can from what I’d planned to say. So… would you like to go on a date with me…  8pm tonight?” He asked, with only a hint of hesitation remaining in his voice.

“It would be an absolute pleasure, my dear Bruce.” She replied, before giving him a quick hug.

“Awesome… well… I should leave you to your work now… and… I have a few things to get ready… I mean work. Bye.” He says, turning towards the elevator and making his way down the corridor away from (y/n).

 

\- - - - Reader’s P.O.V. - - - - 

 

You watch him leave, and when he’s halfway down the corridor and out of earshot, you dance on the spot and can’t help the squeal of joy that escapes your mouth. You skip back into the lab and back to your desk, your journey punctuated with occasional twirls around the lab equipment.

In your blissful state you begin to sing: “I’m going on a date! I’m going on a date! I’m going on a date with BRUCIE!!!”

Unable to remain focussed on the Einsteinium research, you give up, and spend the rest of the afternoon waltzing round the lab, happy in the knowledge that your dreams are starting to come true.

 

\- - - - Time Skip brought to you by Moriarty’s ringtone - - - - 

 

That evening you were once again stood in front of the mirror in your living room. Only this time, you looked like you. You had decided to dress up a little for Bruce, but not so much that you were uncomfortable. You’d chosen a simple summer dress in (f/c) that fell just above the knee, the thick (f/c) straps hiding the black ones of your bra. The dress showed off a respectable amount of cleavage, and where it was brought in at your waist a little, it showed off your curves quite nicely. You finished the look with matching flats, leaving your hair to naturally drop to your shoulders and your face free of make-up. You smile at yourself in the mirror. Perfect.

You hear knocking. You move to the hallway, and with a deep breath to steady your nerves, you reach for the handle, and open the door. You are greeted with a single yellow rose, and Bruce with a slight blush on his cheeks and a little smile gracing his lips. He’s wearing the same charcoal slacks from the other day, with smart black shoes, and that purple button down of his that is slightly too tight in just the right way (purple shirt of sex, anyone?). His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his glasses are tucked into his shirt pocket. The sight leaves you almost speechless… almost.

“It’s beautiful.” You exclaim, taking the rose from his hand and bringing it to your nose, breathing in its summery scent.

You turn to the side and place it in a vase on a small table containing some flowers that already decorated your home.

“Shall we?” He asked, holding out his arm for you.

You slide your arm through his and allow him to lead you from the door into the elevator. He presses the button for the very top floor.

“We’re staying in then?” You ask uncertainly.

“Not exactly, (y/n).” He says with a hint of mystery in his voice.

Knowing that you won’t get anymore out of him than that, you just raise your eyebrows in response. As the elevator reaches your destination, Bruce stands behind you and places his hands over your eyes.

“Trust me (y/n), it’ll be worth the surprise.” He whispers in your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine.

You hear the elevator doors slide open, and once the two of you step out, he stops you from walking. You remain close together. Then after a moment, he removes his hands from in front of your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters other than you belong to Marvel.
> 
> Thanks so much for your support, Owlets, and as always, your comments and feedback are much appreciated. :)
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	8. Chapter 8

What you see takes your breath away. You are both stood on the roof of Stark Tower, or rather, in a small enclosed part of it. There are waist-high balcony walls made of glass on all four sides; each pane is darkened and intersected with sleek, black metal. Small wooden boxes containing shrubs of varying shades of emerald are placed equidistant from one another around the edges of the square, leaving enough room in-between them for two people to comfortably gaze out across the city below. Wooden flooring covers the area, and along the outside, twisting round the balcony, are strings of golden fairy lights, gleaming like constellations, and casting a pleasant glow. In the very centre of the space are large pillows, placed in a small heap, with blankets and other various cushions in soft hues of pink. Beside this creation is a bowl of succulent strawberries and a bucket of ice containing a bottle of expensive champagne, condensation glittering across its surface and the occasional droplet running nonchalantly down its side.

“Oh Bruce, it’s magical.” You whisper.

“I’m glad you like it.” he smiles in return, a blush dusting his cheeks.

Taking your hand, he leads you to the edge of the balcony overlooking the city, where he tentatively places a hand on your waist and you instinctively cuddle into his side despite the warmth of the summer evening. Far below, the beating heart that is New York is laid out before you in a sprawl of twinkling lights, the characteristic rumble of life a distant murmur and the majesty of the sleepless city an age away from your haven in the sky.

“I always venture up here when I want to de-stress.” Bruce says softly.

“I can see why, it’s very beautiful.” You reply.

He watches you out of the corner of his eye for a moment before adding, “Only now that you’re here.”

You turn to look at him, unable to help the blush and the smile. “Honestly, Bruce?” You raise an eyebrow at him and giggle.

“Yes, honestly.” He responds seriously. “Even with all these lights, and even on occasion when you can see the stars, this place hasn’t felt as complete as it does right now with you.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. “Right now is perfect.” You whisper back.

He nods and holds you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest as you both take in the endless cityscape beneath you. You notice that his cologne smells like amberwood, which is very distinctly him; understated, unique and classically masculine. You remain wrapped in his arms, breathing him in and savouring the blissful serenity that envelopes you both.

 

\- - - - Time Skip brought to you by Bruce being adorable - - - -

 

The orange sky is now melting into lilac and purple as the late summer evening lazily blurs into night, the air still retaining its pleasing warmth. You’ve been enjoying Bruce’s company for a couple of hours now; your time spent on the jumble of cushions speaking softly and laughing with one another. The strawberries have long since been eaten, and your second glass of champagne is almost empty, but the bubbles still hit the back of your throat producing a light and pleasant sensation that makes you want to giggle. You are both laying staring at the expanse of sky above you; your right hand intertwined with his left.

He turns to look at you for a moment, his eyes creasing round the edges as he smiles. His eyes are like dark, melted chocolate that you would happily drown under, and your heart begins to race as you study his features. You return his smile shyly. Little did you know that his heart was hammering in time with yours.

“What is it, Bruce?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead untangling his hand from yours and propping himself up on his elbow. He continues to gaze at you, the soft smile still on his lips. “I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you (y/n). You are quite simply beautiful.”

“I didn’t think you were a lightweight Bruce.” You said, referring to the empty champagne glass at his side.

He frowns before replying, “You have no idea how stunning you really are. I’m not drunk from the alcohol, (y/n). I’m drunk on you.”

Your eyes flicker from the darkness of his eyes, to his lips, and then back again. You both start to lean in and you can feel the distance between you shrink. You close your eyes and feel his warm breath on your lips. Just as you were about to kiss, something sharp digs into the side of your chest. You wince and pull back immediately, your eyes flying open in shock. Bruce’s expression mirrors yours, until he sheepishly removes those pesky glasses from his shirt pocket.

“Sorry.” He whispers with a smile.

“It’s just us.” You grin back, shaking your head.

You cuddle up closer to him, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. The amusement of the interruption soon subsides and once again you are leaning in toward one another, only this time, you connect. His lips are soft and gentle. The kiss is tentative at first, as if you are both afraid that any second you’ll wake up and lose this electrifying contact. But gradually, as you both relax into each other, the past year of frustration and wasted time is converted into passion and the kiss deepens. You twist your hands in his greying hair as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him. You moan into the kiss, causing Bruce to smirk, and nip playfully at your bottom lip. You gladly comply, allowing his tongue to dance with yours as you explore each other for the first time. Your mind is empty of everything but him and this very moment. Time seems to stop and it’s just the two of you in the soft glow of the fairy light constellations. You feel alive and timeless and together. But the need for oxygen interrupts your hunger, and you reluctantly break the kiss, resting your foreheads against one another, and trying to catch your breath. Your eyes are closed as you savour the sensation of the first kiss you shared. All the while Bruce drinks in your appearance; your cheeks flushed, the smile spread across your face, and your lips red from the delicious contact they had with his own. Your eyelids flutter open and you see his dark eyes, now almost black, staring back at you. His gaze is a swirling pool of adoration, amazement and desire. You nod your head once as an answer.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice low and husky.

“More than anything. All I want right now is-“

“You.” He interrupts, before drawing you to him in your second passionate kiss of the night, as you both sink back into the pillows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce belongs to Marvel (sadly).
> 
> As always, please give me feedback so that I can improve my writing - it is greatly appreciated.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lemon Alert!!!
> 
> Feel free to skip to the next chapter if you don't want to read - you won't miss out on any story.

Your back softly hits the pillows and you feel Bruce’s weight above you as his lips capture yours in an exquisite kiss; his tongue deftly claiming every inch of your mouth, causing you to flush red with hunger. The lazy confidence of his actions sending an anticipatory tingle rippling across your lower body and down toward your toes; his early dominance setting your skin on fire. He begins to wander his hands slowly across your body, running deliberate and torturous circles down your sides and to your hips. The pressure of his touch causing your heart to beat faster and your breathing turn into short gasps. Between kisses the arrogance is clear on his face; he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. The dull ache in the pit of your stomach gradually develops through a combination of his restless hands and a series of increasingly ravenous kisses, till every fibre of your being wants him. You can barely stop the moans that escape your lips as you tangle your hands in his hair, nails grazing his scalp slightly in your excited state of bliss. 

Infuriated by the clothes which maddeningly separate your skin from contact, you begin to undo the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers seemingly able to complete the action despite your mind being empty of all but him and feeling his warmth. As the shirt falls open under your touch you plant delicate kisses along his jawline. You then continue your journey down his neck with open-mouthed kisses, occasionally biting and soothing the skin with your tongue, leaving small, purple bruises in your wake. Once his chest is fully exposed, he helps you remove his shirt from his shoulders. You take the opportunity to marvel at his half-naked, toned form, before you hear the purr of the zipper on your dress as he begins to rid you of the (f/c) material.

He throws the dress off to the side somewhere, and on turning back to face you, he seizes the chance to gaze upon your body, which is clad only in black, lacy underwear. His eyes roam every contour and undulation; starting at the dip above your clavicle, then the roundness of your breasts and the valley between them, delicious and inviting, followed by your navel and the curvature of your hips, leading beyond and down your legs. The intensity of his dark eyes causes heat to pool between your thighs. He leans back in toward you, ghosting kisses down your neck whilst he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The flimsy garment joins the others forming a growing pile on the wooden floor. His fingers begin to wander as his hands before, only now they leave behind a burning trail of desire across your (s/c) skin. He follows the path of his digits with peppered kisses, pausing only to lavish attention to your breasts. You can no longer contain the utterances of pleasure that leave your lips, as Bruce groans against your exposed flesh, sending a bolt of lightning racing to the base of your spine.

You feel a distinct hardness pressed against your upper leg, and through your moans you can’t help but smile, knowing that tonight you’ll be his undoing. Your hands search for the buttons of his trousers, but in the haze of want your fingers merely fumble uselessly over the fabric in your rush to release him of the offending garment keeping you from him. Noticing your intention, he pulls away from you to help you relieve him of his remaining clothes, kicking his undergarments away to the side. Freed from his confines, you’re unable to keep your eyes from drifting south.

Realising the direction of your gaze, he half-growls, half-whispers: “I’m going to take you to heaven and back.”

Before you can utter another sound, in one gentle yet swift motion he has your panties removed and you are naked before him. You gasp in surprise and anticipation as you are now completely unsheltered from the warm, summer air and the intoxicating man above you. Wasting no more time, he expertly works magic with his fingers; curling, stroking and grazing your walls in all the right places, till you’re squirming beneath him, unable to say or think anything other than his name. So lost in momentary bliss, you barely register him adorning the contents of a foil packet as he stops his ministrations and proceeds to shower your body with kisses, moving toward your neck, then capturing your mouth once more with his. Breaking the kiss, his eyes lock onto yours in search of permission. No words need be spoken as you nod your head in reply.

You wrap your legs round his waist as he gently enters you and allows your body time to adjust. After a few moments, you rock your hips toward his, producing the most delectable, animalistic groan from Bruce, and he responds with equal movement. At first his pace is slow, allowing you both to savour every sensation and the feeling of being together. But as the coil in your stomach tightens and blood courses through his veins faster, you both need more. His pace increases as you share bruising kisses and begin to ascend the dizzying heights of pure ecstasy with ever greater volume till you are both dancing on the edge of oblivion. Through the torrent of moans and unintelligible sounds, he changes his angle slightly, hitting a bundle of nerves repeatedly that makes you see stars. The earth-shattering pleasure makes your back arch and his name tears from your throat as you fall off the precipice; beautiful, uninhibited and free. Your reaction sends him tumbling over the edge, his thrusts becoming more erratic as you reach the most sinful heaven as one.

He collapses beside you, draping an arm over your waist and holding you close as you both allow your breathing to return to normal. Your sweat mingles in the night air, and you lay curled up together, listening to the other’s heartbeat. Bruce grabs one of the sheets from the pile of cushions beneath you and allows it to fall softly over the two of you. In your tired haze you nuzzle into the side of his neck, before smiling sleepily at one another and sharing languid kisses as you remain, limbs entangled, with the sky hanging above you as you drift into post-coital sleep in the arms of your lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bruce belongs to Marvel (sadly).
> 
> Have fun! And please don’t hesitate to comment; this is the first time I’ve ever attempted to write something like this and I’d really appreciate your feedback.
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


	10. Epilogue

\- - - - Third Person P.O.V. - - - - 

 

Bruce is stood in the kitchen by the coffee machine waiting for J.A.R.V.I.S. to finish making two cappuccinos; one for himself, and the other for his girlfriend, (y/n), who, after a wondrous night beneath the stars, had now relocated to his bedroom, where she awaited her morning cup of coffee and the adorkable scientist. He had changed into pale grey sweatpants and a wifebeater for his journey in the elevator to the shared kitchen, but his feet remained bare and his hair tousled from the previous evening. So lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice Tony enter the kitchen and take a seat at the island.

“Someone had a good night.” The smirk is evident in Tony’s voice.

“W-what?!” Startled, Bruce turns round to face his friend, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You and (y/n). The state of your hair. The fact that it’s 10am on a Saturday and you aren’t already working in the lab.” Tony lists matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows slightly in his typical I-know-I’m-right face.

“Tony, first of all, it’s none of your business. Second, my coffee’s done so I’m leaving.” He says, before gathering up the two mugs in his hands and proceeding to move towards the door.

“Not so fast, Science Bro! I’m not asking for details, but still, the first date?!” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Bruce sighs, halting his progress toward the door and placing the cups back on the work surface. Knowing that he’d have to answer Tony’s question sooner or later, he decides to do so now, because (y/n) is still upstairs waiting for him, and he doesn’t want Tony cutting his morning with her short by repeatedly bugging him with the same question.

“We love each other, Tony. We’re just two intelligent people who were too stupid to realise how we felt about one another, and after a whole year of… frustration, last night just kind of… happened. The date went well and then we kissed and one thing led to another, but it was… right… I guess… for us, anyway. It wasn’t intentional, but…” He trails off, his memories once again clouding his eyes.

“Earth to Bruce!”

Colour rushes to his cheeks as he is thrown back into reality and notices Tony’s amused expression.

“What were you going to say?” Tony presses.

Bruce clears his throat, shaking his head dismissively. “Nothing.”

Tony merely gives him a look.

“That she’s… like a goddess.” He whispers in reply, his eyes darting to the floor.

At that moment, Steve chooses to enter the kitchen. “Who’s a goddess?” He asks the two scientists.

Tony smirks, “Why don’t you ask Bruce?”

If it were possible, his friend’s face grows even more red as he glares at Tony. Naturally, the billionaire ignores the silent plea, and answers Steve anyway.

“Bruce was referring to (y/n).”

“Well I admit that she is very pretty and she has an amazing personality. You know, she’s always willing to help me out-”

Steve is interrupted by Tony: “She more than ‘helped out’ Bruce.” He grins, delighted at Steve’s confusion and Bruce’s simultaneous mortification.

“That’s my cue to leave.” Hurriedly grabbing the coffees, Bruce almost runs out the door to the elevator before Tony can embarrass him further by clarifying what he’d just said to the soldier.

Steve, uncertain as to why the doctor left so quickly, hesitantly gives Tony a querying look, all too aware that he is likely to regret doing so, but equally hating the feeling of ignorance that seems to permanently overshadow his life in the modern world. In return, Tony gains a mischievous glint in his eyes, deliberating which words would make the super-soldier most uncomfortable.

“Let’s just say that (y/n) and Bruce indulged in a bit of extracurricular biology last night on their date, and that judging by the state of his hair and the two cappuccinos, it went exceedingly well.” He says slowly, allowing his words to gradually sink in.

The innocence on Steve’s face is steadily replaced by a combination of embarrassment and mild horror, much to Tony’s amusement. The Captain, clearly flustered, barely whispers, “I didn’t need to know that.”

“You’re going to have to know sooner or later, Capsicle, and by that, I mean right now you’re the only one third-wheeling in this Tower.”

Steve is again confused.

“You’re the only one without someone to… keep you company. I have Pepper, Bruce now has (y/n), Clintasha has been going on for ages, and Thor has that Jane woman, which leaves you, Cap.” Tony explains, “and unless you want to spend the rest of the twenty-first century alone…”

“I don’t know. Dating seems so much more different than it was in my day. I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin.” Steve replies, a hint of sadness in his voice.

A minute or so of silence follows, in which time the super soldier has remained by the door, lost in introspection, whilst Tony’s mind has been occupied with the frenzied connecting of ideas and their subsequent refinement. It is at this point that Tony, with a confident smile on his face, drags Steve from his inner musings.

“You know, Cap, Bruce and (y/n) were probably never going to go on a date if it weren’t for me. Admittedly there were some teething problems, but after a push in the right direction, they couldn’t be happier.”

“Your point being?” Steve asks dubiously.

“I could set you up on a few dates… give you some advice-”

Before he even finishes his sentence, Steve is striding toward the elevator, but not without Tony quickly following him.

“No. I’m not interested.” The soldier bluntly replies, repeatedly pressing the call button. His prayers are seemingly answered when the doors slide open and he can jump inside.

“But Capsicle-”

Steve starts to hit the button to close the doors, and as they begin to pull shut, he sternly sounds out his response: “No. Goodbye, Tony.”

The elevator doors shut as Tony reaches them.

“I was only trying to help.” He says forlornly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any recognisable characters belong to Marvel.
> 
> Yes, he aims to meddle again, but unfortunately that’s it for this mini-series. It has been so much fun writing for these characters, especially Tony, as there is so much scope for humour, friendship and feels. I’ll really miss this Reader, and Bruce was an absolute pleasure to write for (because smart is the new sexy, and nerds need more love).
> 
> Thanks so much for all the support there has been for this work; my first ever fanfic and reader insert.
> 
> It has been wonderful to write for you all, and I hope that my future work will be just as entertaining and well-received. :)
> 
> Live Long and Prosper x  
> WiseOwl95


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